


His Own Personal Rulers

by GhostGarrison



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Anal Fingering, Bottom!Cas, Comeplay, Kissing, Knights - Freeform, M/M, Oral Sex, Spitroasting, Wing Kink, sub!cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 17:49:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2701838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostGarrison/pseuds/GhostGarrison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stressed and exhausted from trying to please his public and rule a kingdom, King Castiel returns to his bedchambers completely tired of being a ruler. But his personal guard—Sirs Sam and Dean Winchester—won't let him rest until they give him exactly what he needs: to feel used and useful once again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Own Personal Rulers

After a thousand years of war, the holy angelic race had won against all of its enemies—the dark and lowly demons and the hoards of monsters that once inhabited the large forests to the east—with the help of the fragile but proud humans that inhabited the continent.

His brothers died valiantly in the war against the demons and monsters, leaving Prince Castiel Novak, holding the position of Royal Knight Exorcist in the angelic army, to step up into the position of King of the land—though, much against the wishes of the human race. Most did not take too kindly to having another race rule over them, turning the entire human species into the lower working class, subservient to those with wings and Grace.

However, some humans who fought in the war—those who _survived_ —retained their positions out of both honor and might, which is how King Castiel encountered the famous Winchester brothers. He had heard of their skill and strength, despite being not as much as his own as they are still human, so he had to keep an eye out for them from within the battalion.

And sure enough, they were _glorious_.

Sirs Sam and Dean Winchester, sons of Sir John Winchester, son of Sir Henry Winchester and so forth, are what Castiel considers prime examples of the best of what the human race can produce—strong, loyal, and skilled almost to the point where they can face angels in a duel and put up a rousing fight.

And, predictably, they have ascended through the ranks to King Castiel’s personal guard, escorting him anywhere and everywhere he needs to go, standing dutifully beside his throne through every hearing, council meeting, and even meal. There are whispers about their true relation to the king among the staff— _'Eating as equals?'_ some castle servants would whisper. _'I hear they are allowed within his chambers,'_ others would say. _'The chambermaid said she found a pile of our King's feathers in bed and he is not molting.'_

King Castiel does not mind such rumors… because they’re not wrong.

Sam and Dean are his personal guards and achieved high knights of the new angel-human combined militia—this much is true.

However, they are much more to Castiel. They are his advisors, his friends, and for the past year, his lovers. And this is his secret that he will keep until the grave. It is not unusual for kings to take lovers—male or female, married or unmarried, no matter what class—but not _humans_ , not from an entirely different race.

No, as far as Castiel is concerned, he is the first royal angel to take a human—or two—into his bed. If his brothers were still alive, he would be shamed.

But he doesn’t regret it one bit.

They are attentive lovers, somehow seeing into the mind of their King as if they were angels themselves, knowing exactly where to touch and giving him exactly what he wants and needs without asking.

And it seems that tonight is no different.

It has been a long day for King Castiel, seeing to various hearings about the clearing of residual demon groups in outlying cities in the hinterlands and listening to reports from his generals who keep the perimeter. A full day of keeping his head held tall, making executive decisions with his small group of quarreling advisors, and smiling at visiting nobility has him tired.

But his dearest duo won’t let him rest one moment. The minute the three of them are in his bedchambers for the night, they lead him to his bed—large, overstuffed cushion and layers and layers of blankets and throw pillows, so it doesn’t hurt when they move him into position after shedding his robes, up on his hands and knees between them.

Dean is before him, kissing him hard, sloppy and without any finesse but still devouring him whole. There’s something about Dean’s plump pink lips and hot, wet tongue that makes the King moan against them, mouth opening and seeking more.

Behind him, Sam is kissing his neck, biting lightly as a warning of what’s to come. _'Good thing those robes cover your neck,'_ Dean once teased as his brother bit and sucked all over his body. _'Or else all of the castle would know their King likes it like this.'_

Castiel throws his head back when Sam’s oiled fingers, previously rubbing around his rim, press forwards through the muscle. He gasps against Dean’s cheek, grasping onto the man as the younger knight thrusts two long fingers into him. Sam prepares his King quickly, his movements rough and swift since he knows that Castiel can ease any pain and heal any damage with his Grace after it is all said and done.

He’d never admit it, but Castiel likes when it hurts, loves the sickeningly sweet burn he feels when he’s being bedded, when the brothers are rough with him—he’s almost thankful for it, as he’s been treated as rather fragile since returning from war. He is a warrior king, a victor, and he shall be treated like the strong being he is.

Castiel bites down on Dean’s shoulder accidentally when Sam begins pushing in, his long cock pushing and burning with every inch that sinks into him. Sam’s humanly strong hands trail down his back, nails grazing at his skin and leaving red marks for him to remember, before weaving his fingers through the feathers of his wings, gripping them to pull him back to meet Sam’s thrusts to help him delve deeper than ever before.

After a few minutes of trying to continue to kiss his King, Dean gives up on the effort, deeming Castiel’s brash movements from Sam’s thrusts too difficult to keep up with.

Blue eyes widen when the older Winchester kneels up on the bed, untying his embroidered pants and shedding them to reveal another long, familiar cock standing at attention already. Dean gives it a few tugs before positioning his hips before Castiel’s face, hand guiding his cock to his King’s lips.

Castiel’s mouth drops open obediently at the sight, licking his lips in preparation which makes Dean smirk.

"My King, you are so hungry for it, aren’t you?" Dean asks as the tip passes between his lips. "You’ve been craving it all day. right?"

Sam’s powerful thrusts rock his entire body back and forth, leaving Castiel absolutely no control over taking Dean’s length into his mouth—no control over how much, how fast, how deep. When Sam pushes in hard, he’s pushed forwards, forced to take Dean all the way into his mouth and throat. And when Sam pulls out, he’s pulled away.

Tonight is kind of like the movement of an ocean upon the earth, Castiel surmises in the back of his mind. The push and pull of the tides is forced by the moon and the ocean has no say in how far it goes up and down the beach. The King tries to make himself more fluid in response, allowing himself to be moved by the brothers and opening himself up as much as possible for them.

With a Winchester’s cock pushing in and pulling from both his mouth and his hole, Castiel lets himself _feel_. His entire body is tingling, trembling from the sheer amount of sensitivity he’s experiencing. Sam’s length dives so deep, brushing over a spot that makes him writhe with every thrust, toes curling. Sam’s hands gripping his wings makes him want to gasp, but he can’t.

The feeling of Dean’s slick, velvety dick plunge down his throat forcefully strikes a place deep below his stomach, a slow fiery burning feeling collecting there, stirring behind his own hard, dripping length. Castiel can feel the orgasm building up, uncontrollable and addicting. He’s tempted to reach a hand down to stroke his cock to help him get there faster, but he doesn’t. He knows he doesn’t need to.

King Castiel continues to focus on feeling, on the cocks that have spun him into a delirious, hazed state of mind, that drive him to the brink every night. He widens his stance a little more, spreading his knees so that Sam can drive even deeper, splitting him in half with each thrust. He also tilts his head, dropping his jaw open further so he can feel the full weight of Dean’s dick across his tongue and the tip hitting the back of his throat.

"He’s so pretty like this, isn’t he Sam?" Dean comments again, and Castiel nearly rolls his eyes at Dean’s inability to keep his mouth shut but he’s too preoccupied. Dean cards his fingers through Castiel’s dark hair, green eyes intently watching his length disappear between pale pink lips, mesmerized at the sight he’s seen so many times.

"Our dear King," Sam begins, punctuating his sentence with a harsh thrust, "on his hands and knees, _serving_ his people like a good King should.”

Agreeing with a nod, Dean tightens his grip on Castiel’s hair and pulls at it, causing a guttural sound to bloom from their King’s throat.

Dean comes first, his hot come splashing down Castiel’s throat where his dick is buried deep. The older knight throws his head back, letting out a thankful moan as he slightly thrusts his hips forwards, pumping his dick between his King’s lips a few more times as he rides out his orgasm. When he pulls his dick out, Castiel unconsciously tries to chase it, tongue darting out to lick the leftover come off of the wilting length.

"My little slut," Dean sighs softly, in sleepy admiration. He holds his dick steady so that his King can continue to lick and suck at it. "Always wanting more."

Sam also comes a few moments after that.

He feels it minutely when Sam comes, a perk of being an ethereal angel. Not only does the human let out a small shout, but Castiel feels his dick pulse inside him, the come washing over his insides, filling him up. He feels a few feathers come loose from where Sam’s grip on his wings tightens for a few moments before letting go.

The King feels a great loss when both of the brothers withdraw, yearning for the touch of their hands or the feeling of their cocks. But he’s quickly picked up roughly by two hands on either side of his ribcage, gripping him.

Sam heaves Castiel up onto his lap, hooking one arm under his knee and pulling one leg up into the air, exposing the rest of him. Dean ducks his head immediately to lick and tease their King’s hard cock, never letting more than the tip go between his lips and making Castiel buck and beg “more.”

However, Sam is the one who gives him more. With lips against the column of his neck, three dry fingers are back at Castiel’s entrance, dipping in to his already stretched hole with only his own come to slick the way. Like the beginning, Sam fingers him roughly, fingers darting quickly in and out of his hole, stretching him even more and seeking out the little spot that makes him scream.

With a mouth on his dick and three long fingers in his ass, it doesn’t take long for Castiel to come all over himself, wings weakly fluttering and come painting his stomach and part of Dean’s face.

Sam lets down Castiel’s knee, reaching out his hand to scrape some come off of his brother’s face and brings his fingers up to their King’s lips, which part. Castiel tastes himself of Sam’s fingers, salty and bitter, licking them clean until Sam is satisfied and draws him away.

Castiel feels limp and liquid, but thankfully the brothers lower him gently to the mattress, arranging him and his wings neatly between them.

Together, they lie there amongst his copious bedding and pillows, each breathing hard against each other’s shining skin. Castiel lies between them, all six limbs thrown haphazardly over the two brothers who inch in close to him. The two extra bodies in his bed give off such an amazing heat that warms him to the core.

He lets out a long breathy sigh. King Castiel can’t help feeling so… _satisfied_.

After all day of being the bright and pure angelic king, Castiel enjoys returning to his private chambers and made to feel dirty and used. The come that drips from his hole and down his thighs and down his throat delights him, makes him feel more himself and less of the king he tries to be every day. He’s a warrior first, to be used in battle—and he misses that feeling.

The Winchester brothers have lovingly obliged him and indulged his need to feel and be used all this time, ensuring he gets what he needs. They use him like a common whore, play with his body, force him to take whatever they can give, and pump him full of come night after night.

He couldn’t be more thankful for Sirs Sam and Dean Winchester—his personal guard, his friends, his lovers, his own personal rulers in bed.

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on tumblr @ GhostGarrison


End file.
